Speak for Yourself
by Butterfly-Potpourri
Summary: Chapter 1, Headlock: No matter how much you struggle, he won't let go. Predictable and unpredictable pairings.


**Speak for Yourself-**

Wow…I can't believe I'm actually writing this. smiles This is an idea I've had for a while now. I couldn't come up with a good title/chapter names so I just used Imogen Heap's Album, "Speak for Yourself" for the title and songs for the chapters. It actually fits pretty well.

**Prologue-**

Axel walks into the kitchen. All right, so it isn't as much a walk as it is the monstrous lovechild of a sprint and a hop towards the freezer. Long, twig-like arms reach out for the kitchen cabinets, steadying the skeletal figure. He looks around quickly, almost insanely until he decides the unseen yet ever-present enemy lurks nowhere close by, and continues his grotesque dance to the freezer doors.

_cockroaches_

They're the only type of _cock_ Axel doesn't like. God how he hates the little buggers. Although they swarm his tiny apartment and he ought to be used to them by now, the devilish insects still give him the chills. Even while skiptoeing across the kitchen he can _feel_ the nasty, invisible things crawling up his stick-thin calves and thighs.

Reaching the glacial metal of the freezer, Axel heaves on the handle of a door that probably weighs more than him, and pulls out a gallon of "Hot Fudge Brownie" ice cream. His stomach rumbles.

**2:34 a.m. (a mere two minutes ago)-**

"And why do I have to go get you the god damn ice cream?"

"Because I said so," Vexen replied, not even bothering to look at him.

"You're gonna get fat, old man."

"I'm going to die anyways, why not from obesity? The rest of the world is already doing it."

And believe it or not, Axel liked to please.

**2:36 a.m.-**

Looking around the freezer's intestines a bit more, Axel snorts at Vexen's expense. That man loves ice cream. Hell, he loves anything frozen. Half of what they eat goes straight from the freezer to the microwave. About seven gallons of different flavored ice cream and nearly sixty pint sized ones, four different brands of Popsicles, a buffet of frozen peas and other assorted veggies, too many various frostbitten looking meats for Axel to count (one probably being Woolly Mammoth preserved from the ice age), about half the frozen food section in any grocery store, and ice cubes galore manage to cram inside the monstrosity Vexen calls his freezer.

After grabbing said carton of ice cream, he throws his whole body against the door, shutting it with a "thump". The freezer itself stands so big and cold it probably cryogenically freezes any living creature that stood in front of it for more than a minute (no wonder Vexen's lived for so long), so for a sack of limited flesh and tiny bones, shutting the door achieves quite a feat. Grabbing a bowl and two spoons, Axel performs his spastic head twitches before scampering across the house and reuniting himself with the pillows of the back bedroom.

Vexen doesn't even look up from his paperwork when Axel crashes though the door, flinging himself onto the white bed. The scribbling of his pen sounds over Axel's heaving gasps, and when his breath finally returns to normal, he sits up and pops off the lid to the ice cream, scooping out the caramel/brown/white goo in gargantuan sizes. He digs through the frozen mass until half the carton fills the bowl, then hands the bowl overflowing with ice cream to Vexen. Vexen takes it and says a mumbled "thank you" all while still writing. He begins to eat with one hand, the other still scribbling away with an expensive looking pen.

Axel frowns but follows in suite, chomping away at the remnants of the carton. He hates it when Vexen does paperwork, absolutely despises it. There's nothing fun to do at two in the morning, Captain Planet's the only thing on at this hour (Axel already having seen every single episode), and sleeping's just boring. He once tried annoying Vexen, but that ended badly, very badly. Shivering, he plots some more. Menial tasks are the most exciting thing to carry out when things get like this; at least it's something to do. But the man rarely asks for anything so…Axel's normally left with nothing to do. He sighs loudly; not even earning a twitch from the older man, and then begins to look around the room.

He does so for a few minutes, keeping eerily quiet, until at long last Vexen puts down the pen and turns around. Their eyes meet.

"What are you doing?"

"Mmmm…" He makes an incomprehensible noise prior to continuing, "Debating whether the desk lamp would fit up my ass or not."

Vexen raises an eyebrow. "With or without the shade?"

Axel snorts. _Finally_. "I don't know really, see why I'm debating?"

The academic sighs and walks over to the bed, smoothing out the covers in advance of sitting down. He snickers before continuing, "Wanna see?"

X

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X

**Chapter 1- Headlock**

The hallways are empty, well of course they are. With midterms coming up in a few months, everyone else is studying in class. The black boots (that violate the dress code) clunk down the hall, and it surprises the wearer that no one's come out of their class to tell him to be quiet yet. He stomps on.

At last he reaches a small clinic door with multiple signs about maintaining/improving your health draped over the small window. Gripping the freezing doorknob, he pushes foreword and tromps into the room.

A small, lilac haired man looks up from where he is tending a man over twice his size on a cot that looks ready to snap under the intense weight, and starts to say something until he realizes whom it is, because then he snorts. "What are _you_ doing back here? Weren't you just here a few minutes ago?" His voice dribbling with malice.

The burly man looks up from his place on the cot, wondering what the boy in front of him did to deserve such a nasty tone from the school nurse. But his attention snaps back to said nurse when the lithe man puts a swab of rubbing alcohol on his skinned knee.

"Left my bag," the speaker grins sheepishly.

"Uh-huh," the nurse says sardonically. "I swear, he has the worst taste in men."

"Like you're one to talk," another voice says from behind them. The three of them turn to stare at a middle-aged man wearing glasses.

The lilac haired nurse sighs, rolling his eyes. He then stares to look at his patient. The burly man looks at him for a split second before casting his eyes downwards, his high cheekbones tinted red.

The middle-aged man sighs and holds out a black bag to the boy clad in black boots. "Come on, Axel. It's English right now, meaning you also skipped P.E., History, and lunch, so you're going to eat." No questions asked, the man knows him too well.

"Ahh damn, Vexy. How will I keep my gorgeous figure if you keep stuffing me with food?" Axel grins dangerously.

The blonde man sighs, "Don't call me that, not here at least." He flashes a glance to the man on the cot. "Zexion, I'm taking my lunch break. Make sure Lexeaus gets back to class when you're done."

"Alright, but don't take too long," Zexion mutters. He turns his attention back to Lexeaus. "You have a fever, you're staying here and napping."

"But…"

"No 'buts'. Now lay down and rest!" Zexion snapped in a shrill voice.

"I'll see you later," Vexen says, pushing Axel by the shoulders and out the door. The two of them stride out the front door, across the parking lot, and slide into the silver Mercedes Benz. Vexen sticks the key into the ignition, blaring the horrific noises he liked to call "music" out the surround sound speakers, before Axel shuts it off.

Vexen eyes him warily. "What?" Axel concentrates on looking through the CDs. "Hey, where's MSI? I could have sworn I left it in here."

"You did," the older man sighs and wheels the sleek automobile out of the parking lot and onto the street. Axel sits up and looks at him, expecting an explanation as to why it's not in there now. Smirking, he continues, "So I threw it away."

"What!" The redhead down right shrieks. "God damnit, Vexy!" And although he's seething, he still finds it in him to call the middle-aged man by his pet name.

"That trash you call music will make you go deaf by eighteen. Not to mention the toll it takes on the few brain cells you have left." His green eyes fix themselves on the road, not even looking at the livid redhead.

"Yeah? Well the dying cat you call jazz is shittier," the younger sneers.

"Oh, touché."

Axel slouches further into the leather upholstery of the car, arms folded across his chest. He sighs loudly, blowing the scarlet strands of hair out of his eyes. His eyes slowly drift over to the stick shift of the car and let's his gaze settle on Vexen's crotch. He smirks.

"What do you want to eat?" The older man asks, still concentrating on the road. That's probably what Axel hates most about him, the fact that he almost never looked at anyone when he talked to them. Vexen seemed to think that he reigns superior to absolutely everything; few people exist that the egotistical man actually looks in the eyes.

"Mmmm…" Axel grins, knowing how much the noise entices the older man. Shifting emerald green eyes to stare at the ones fixated on the road he mockingly says, "Oh Vexy, I only want to eat you." He licks a pair of chapped lips, sitting up and leaning over to nip the man's ear.

The elder of the two merely rolls his eyes and continues driving. "For once try to take _something_ seriously."

"I am," he purrs. Vexen's twitch of visible restraint makes Axel grin even more. Unbuckling his seat belt, he slides closer. Wrapping his arms around Vexen's shoulders, he whispers, "Vexy…" and nibbles on his jawbone.

He feels the man grit his teeth, trying to control himself. "Put your seatbelt back on Axel, I don't want to get pulled over."

Axel puts his seatbelt on, and then he bends over and pulls Vexen's zipper down with his teeth. The middle-aged man stiffens and flashes a glance down at the boy. "Stop it," but there's that twinge of yearning that reminds the both of them what he says isn't what he wants.

Attempting to gain some sort of control of the younger, Vexen repeats, "Stop it, Axel." But it's to no avail seeing as he's hard already, with Axel's lips inching closer by the second. And it's like Axel's mouth possess a mind of its own, because the way it moves to the tip of the head and runs back down along the sides and how he let's the older man's cock slide against the roof of his mouth and bump into a few of his teeth makes it seem so alive.

Vexen nearly runs a stop sign until he shifts his attention from the teen between his legs to the breaks, slamming a shaking foot onto them and stopping the car in the middle of the road. Axel doesn't even flinch as the car's violent jerk comes to an end, acting as if nothing happened he continues. And God…it's like Axel's lips are glued to Vexen's cock, and the older man thinks it might be cutting off circulation or something because he's become so lightheaded and sparks of color currently waltz in front of his eyelids. He's stopped driving all together, parked in the middle of a four-way intersection, moaning with his head resting on the steering wheel.

A car pulls up behind them, honks (as politely as one's capable at a car sitting in the middle of a street), waits a few seconds before driving around him. Vexen thanks God that he decided on tinted windows, sits a few minutes more, then wonders if he ought to go ahead and come now, Axel just might let go. Knowing him however, the kid probably wouldn't and would only taunt him about "having no sexual stamina, even for an old guy" for a good two weeks until moving on the something new to tease him about.

So he inhales sharply, counts to ten, then exhales and continues to drive. He can feel Axel's lips curl into a smile. It's a mere four minutes from the school to Vexen's house, but the drive seems unbearably long. So it shouldn't come as a surprise that the second Vexen parks in his garage that he pulls Axel out of the car and into the house by the hair, slamming him against the wall and proceeding to fuck him senseless.

His long, bony fingers strip off Axel's white shirt, sending several buttons flying across the room, and continue to tear the horribly clashing blue plaid pants from the redhead's body. And while the plan was to fuck him against the wall, Vexen's knees give out halfway through undressing the both of them, so now they're sprawled out of the kitchen floor with Axel's bare legs wrapped around Vexen's waist and the both of them panting.

Axel's managed to land on Vexen's keys and so now they're digging painfully into the ridges of his spine. And it really, really fucking hurts but it's incredibly hot at the same time so, he claws at Vexen's shoulder and whimpers "more". The middle-aged man obliges and the keys stab him in-between his vertebrae causing him to hiss from pain. And fuck, is he bleeding?

Vexen coos gently, pulling off a black boot from Axel's foot. And his former really is a pervert because he's licking _in-between_ his toes, and _old man you do **NOT** want to know where those have been_. But Vexen doesn't seem to mind and continues licking and obsessing over them as if they're some piece of art. A particularly sharp bite sends Axel's head crashing into the wall with a cry. He hears the blood rushing to his head and everything about it is so raw and unnatural that it almost makes him sick. But he likes it that way, and so he wraps his legs tighter around Vexen's bony waist and runs his skeletal fingers through the man's long hair.

Their climax comes quickly and unceremoniously. Vexen pants and stares into Axel's painfully green eyes before pulling out (which manages to always feel worst for Axel because he's empty, which would be the natural feeling, but it feels completely unnatural, and so maybe he shouldn't blame Vexen for calling him a whore) and wobbling over to the countertop for some paper towels. He wipes himself off, discarding the useless things into the waste bin and throwing the remaining roll to Axel who remains spread out on the white marble floor. The boy cleans up as best he can, remembering to wipe off the blood from his back, and then fumbles with his shirt.

Axel half-heartedly tries to fasten the remaining buttons through their holes, fails, then sits back against the counter and does nothing. Vexen makes macaroni and cheese, the frozen kind of course. The redhead's eyes follow the man around the kitchen, watching him as he moves from the freezer to the microwave, take the bubbling pasta out after a few minutes, stir it, then put it back for another two minutes.

After his defrosting ritual ends, he strides across the room, fork in hand and pushes the box of sizzling cheese and noodles into his lap. Axel gives him a strange look, before taking the fork from Vexen's outstretched hand and beginning to eat.

"Don't you want any?" He asks.

The academic shakes his head. "Not really," he replies.

"Mmmm…" Axel muses for a minute more, the fork clenched in-between his teeth, protruding from a pair of bruised lips. He pulls the black plastic utensil out of his mouth, twirls it a bit in the sautéed pasta, and hands the fork to Vexen. The elder shakes his head, making Axel become more persistent. "God damnit, just eat it," he exclaims.

The older man refuses still, leaving Axel no other choice than to load the macaroni onto the plastic fork, pull it back, and fling it at the blonde's head. A stream of angry German spews from Vexen's lips and Axel chokes from laughing and swallowing at the same time.

After a bit more coughing Axel finally manages to gain control over his lungs, only to receive a sharp glare from the man across from him. "You're so juvenile," he starts.

"Nazi," The redhead retrogresses into laughing once more. Vexen merely rolls his eyes, used to the younger's insults.

The blonde grabs another paper towel from the rack and pulls the glop of pasta from his hair. He watches as his junior goes back to eating the macaroni, faintly amused. Vexen attempts to clean up a little, before settling back into a comfortable position by the counter and continuing his observation of Axel.

Even though he complains about how Vexen never looks anyone in the eye, Axel hates it when he stares at him. The idea of someone watching him that intently, being able to tell exactly what Axel's thinking by the movements of his fingers and noises he made while eating, freaks him out. He always likes a guise, making it impossible to tell what the redhead's plotting. And so the way Vexen analyzes him so precisely makes him constantly paranoid.

It's a sort of turn on really…

After polishing off the macaroni and cheese, Axel gets up and throws the empty tray away. He looks at Vexen, whose eyes slowly slither up to met his own. Axel shivers. The man really is creepy. "I have to go back."

"Hmm?" Vexen tilts his head to the side slightly.

"I have to get back to school. I have art next, and I don't want to miss it." His emerald eyes have a determined look in them; he already knows the academic won't let him go without a fight.

"Oh," Vexen replies. He draws a finger across the kitchen counter and looks back up at the younger. "Well then, I suppose you should get walking."

The boy creeps steadily towards tearing out his hair. "God damnit! Drive me, or I'll do it myself!"

"That would be a sight to see." Axel writhes. The man is impossible. "I'm not going back until ninth period, so I suppose you'll just have to wait until then," he eyes his nails, amusement gleaming behind jade eyes.

The redhead clenches his fist and stomps over to where Vexen stands. Vexen smiles warily, speculating what Axel's next move is. He predicts his intentions from the way he walks, the way his fingers tremble and itch in the ball of his hand. He's all bark and no bite, the puppeteer hides behinds the strings after all. The blonde knows he's safe for now, and as the he thinks this, Axel snatches the keys from behind him.

"Fuck you," he hisses. His skeletal fingers wrap around the keys, and he storms out of the kitchen. Vexen watches, mildly amused. He hears the engine of the Mercedes roar to life, the garage door open, and the car pull out onto the road beyond. His biggest problem now is figuring out how to get back to work, because he absolutely cannot miss ninth period.

He looks at the clock, 2 minutes before sixth period ends. Smirking, he reaches for his cell phone. "Zexion?" He asks into the phone. "It's Vexen. I'm having car problems, is Lexeaus still there?"

X

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Axel rushes through the door as the bell clangs out its last toll. The students all look up at him as he gives a sheepish grin. Scampering over to his usual table, he throws his bag down and settles himself into a comfortable position in the red plastic chair.

Kadaj looks at him funny. "You know he hasn't gotten here, he's always late after all," the silver haired boy says before beginning to sketch.

"Yeah, I know…" Axel says hesitantly, eyeing the door with his acid green eyes. Without looking, he pulls out his sketchbook and begins to drag his pencil across the page. The word "angel" sits on the board. So they're supposed to sketch angels. The exercise (as explained to Axel by his teacher and fellow peers many times before) helps everyone discover their own perception of what the word is. Their teacher says that everyone's individual perceptions is what makes art, _art_. He says that any one can slap together squiggles and squares and color and call it "art", but it's what everyone feels the painting represents that makes it _art_. _Art _is all about the artist's ideas and thoughts splayed across a canvas, and what and how other people apply their own perceptions to it.

Axel thinks it's bullshit. And he doesn't believe in angels.

So now he's puzzled on what to draw. Looking onto Kadaj's paper he sees a distorted figure, wings and wires sprouting from her torso. The words, "Mother" float above her head. He can't possibly emulate that. First, Kadaj sketches on an artisan level. Second, Axel believes "Mother" is a euphemism for "bitch". The sketch is gorgeous, no doubt about it, but it's not something Axel ever could or would draw.

Getting up, he embarks on a mission to look at everyone else's sketches. He walks over to Roxas' table first, watching the blonde press the pencil down hard against his sketchbook. Axel leans over his shoulder and watches, making sure to bother Roxas as much as possible. The younger's irritation slowly increases to the point where he starts to erase certain parts of the sketch, finds that he drew his lines too dark to fully erase, and become very frustrated indeed. Axel decides he's tortured the sophomore enough when the blonde crumples up his third piece of paper and starts very angrily on a new one.

Sauntering over to Naminé, Roxas' twin, he watches as the girl's frail hands move back and forth across the page. She merely scribbles separate figures, some with wings and halos, others blending into a far more subtly sublimity. The redhead knows full well he will never understand her perception of "_art_" and moves on.

Olette is the last member situated at Roxas' table. The brunet's not extremely good at art but isn't terrible, so Axel wonders if it's possible for him to copy her. That is until he looks at the picture that is so terrifyingly cluttered and blinding by crosses it hurts to look at it. But what more could he expect from the Jesus girl?

Moving on he comes to Fuu, Vivi, and Selphie's table. Fuu's paper shows an "angel" seated in fetal position with her wings broken. And while it's the closet anyone will ever get to Axel's ideology, he knows for certain he's not capable of drawing anything like that. His eyes roll onto Vivi's paper, but once realizing that it radiates purity, asks himself why even bother? And Selphie…well umm…he's not quite sure _what_ Selphie's drawing exactly. And…what is that?

But before he analyzes the whole class' papers, Marluxia walks into the room. "Sorry for being late, the coffee machine broke." He looks at Axel who currently stands over Selphie's chair still trying to figure out what the hell she's drawn. "Sit down please, Axel. I have to take role now."

Axel trudges back to his seat, but not before catching Marluxia's eyes on him. His art teacher smiles at him before the younger redhead looks away. He can't help but feel guilty. "Alright class, if you haven't already started on your sketches, I'd like for you to now."

Axel leans back in his chair, chewing on his pencil. He really can't think of anything to draw, but decides to scribble anyways. Marluxia walks around the room, nodding and observing the student's work. He watches as the burnet reaches Roxas' table; forcing a smile at Olette's work, giving Roxas a few pointers about dimensions and proportions, and then looking down at Naminé's childish looking scrawls.

"This is wonderful," he smiles lightly, tracing his fingers over the winged figures. "So many things can be perceived from this. The way I see this piece is that the style represents childish innocence, children being the only true angels of this world."

The rest of the class nods, knowing to always agree with the teacher. Axel remains silent, which Kadaj notices. "He's always complementing her, even though she can't even draw," he sighs, putting away his sketchbook.

"Yeah, yeah I know. What, think I'm jealous or something?" He doesn't mean to sound rude, but he realizes he is. "Err…sorry…"

The silver haired boy shakes his head. "No problem, you've been really tense lately. Is there anything wrong?"

Chewing on his pencil a bit more, Axel looks away. "No…not really…" he looks down at his drawing again, before tearing it out and throwing it away. It didn't look much like Marluxia anyway.

X

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Marluxia said he wanted to talk to him after school today. It's never after class because the both of them know that they'll get too wrapped up in fucking each other that someone will walk in and see them, so from now on it's, "Can I see you after school?"

Math continues like usual, Professor Valentine explaining how "math is the only true thing in this world. At any moment your life could completely turn upside-down, but math will always be constant." Axel guesses that the black haired man doesn't realize the paradox his own words create. If the world turned upside-down, wouldn't math go along with it?

But the man's rather odd anyways, always wearing that crimson jacket which adds a bit of gothic charm to his black suit.

Health is a bit more interesting. Roxas sits next to him and they talk for a bit until Auron stalks over and asks them if they can tell him what exactly Wendy's makes their chicken out of. When neither of them can answer, they are split apart and Auron goes into a rant about STD's.

Demyx catches up with him as he makes the walk from the Health and Speech portables back to the main building. "Hey there Axel! We missed you in orchestra this morning! Didja forget your guitar again?" The older man asks.

Axel smiles and shakes his head. "Nah, I skipped."

The blonde's mouth hangs open in shock. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! You skipped _my_ class? That's not cool man!" Although Demyx is technically the redhead's music teacher, the two of them go a long way back. He still remembers all the time the two of them spent sitting in the garage, with Demyx attempting to teach Axel guitar with his own sitar in the hopes of becoming famous. Their plans fell through, but at least Axel can play the guitar now.

"So where are you going now?" Demyx is twenty-two, but he seems to have the mental capacity of a nine year old.

"Professor Herndon wanted to see me," he can't help but let a smile grace his lips.

"Oooooooooooh!" Demyx grins as well. "Is that who those new hickies came from?" The older asks, pointing to the three red marks lined in a row against Axel's neck.

"Yeah…" His eyes fall to the ground as he traces a finger over his neck. He forgot all about those…damn Vexen…leaving marks again. Now he can't stop wondering if Marluxia noticed or not.

"Well listen, I wanna go see a movie this weekend. So don't make any big plans, kay?" The older said, tossing his keys in th air and catching them. "I haven't seen much of you since school started, so we gotta get together."

"Yeah," Axel's missed the corky blonde, and a movie this weekend sounds good. "I'll see you later then, man." The redhead waves. He continues walking towards the art room, hands beginning to shake.

Marluxia finishes locking the door before turning around and smiling. Axel shivers. "Ready to go then?"

Axel nods, swallowing deeply before following the brunet.

X

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X

It's the second time that day that Axel's been fucked the minute he gets inside, both by different people. Marluxia's tearing at the redhead's locks matted from sweat as he grinds against him. Axel's heaving, feeling as if his lungs are going to explode as their hips gyrate beyond their control. It's an exhausting practice, whoring himself out to two separate people, but one he enjoys. Marluxia's breath is moist and hot and his skin is slick as he slides against the younger's back.

And it's absolutely punishing to have his back to Marluxia, because he _needs_ more friction and he _needs_ to watch his lover shudder cause it somehow makes him feel in control, which is what he likes best. The two people he lets fuck him daily are both control freaks, and Axel is as well, so there's never any balance. But it's those little moans, the heaving sighs that Marluxia gives him occasionally that really gets him hard.

It's awkward though, to have someone new biting and sucking on your neck, when someone else was doing it only a few hours early. Axel feels bad for thinking about Vexen at a time like this, and wraps his arms around Marluxia's neck, pulling the both of them closer.

It's a perpetuating headlock, with his arms always tangled around someone else's neck.

But it makes him feel in control,

And that's what matters most.

X

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Yay! I'm finally done. I'm a day late, but at least I got it up. So yeah…kind of weird…I know… My smut isn't that great, I've got to recruit a professional erotica writer next time. --

I hope you like it and keep reading, there's a shit load more pairings to come. But homigawd…AkuVexen…Go read Slide and Cilice if you're interested. Mmmmmm old man smex.


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